


The Right Places

by FatlockFills



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fat Mycroft, Fatlock, Incest, M/M, Teasing, Weight Gain, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatlockFills/pseuds/FatlockFills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous said: I would lap some Holmescest up, as long as you're asking! Sherlock ribbing Mycroft about how much he's gained when Mycroft arrives home for the summer? Short and sweet, if you please! x</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Places

Mycroft typically took internships over the summer. But now he had completed his doctorate and secured a job as a replacement for a retiring official who was set to make his way out of politics in September. Future secure, Mycroft had bowed to pressure and returned home for the summer. He had taken up residence in a corner of the library, hardly stirring from his chair all day every day, reading thick tomes and plain bound reports in equal measure. 

Two weeks after his arrival, Mummy and Father went on a light backpacking weekend and left their boys alone. 

"My goodness," Sherlock drawled from behind him. Mycroft looked over his shoulder as he set the tomato slice down gently on top of his sandwich. His little brother continued, "I can see why you’ve gotten fat." 

Mycroft looked down at his sandwich. Bread, light condiments to keep it moist, lettuce, tomato, a few slices of roast beef, but hardly anything excessive. “This? This is a snack.” 

"Exactly. To me that would be a meal." Sherlock laughed at his own observation and walked closer. "You? I bet you could eat two. Or three." He pinched the lip of fat that pushed out over Mycroft’s trousers. 

"Stop that." Mycroft picked up his plate to walk around him, and Sherlock knocked an empty cheese package off the counter.

"Could you get that for me?" His voice was sweetly angelic. Mycroft set his sandwich back down and bent with a grunt, stomach squishing, picked up the package and pushed himself fully upright with a groan.

"Shame," Sherlock commented.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You’ve put on barely any weight in the arse. It’s all gone to your gut." Sherlock reached into a cupboard and pulled out a roll of crisps. "Eat up until you’ve put on curves in some of the good places."


End file.
